


Valok do Dovahkiin

by Tah the Trickster (TahTheTrickster)



Series: My Hero. [16]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Dawnguard, Existential Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Nihilism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahTheTrickster/pseuds/Tah%20the%20Trickster
Summary: She was the Dragonborn, of course. Anyone could see that. She had the Dragon's Blood in her, blessed by Akatosh himself, prophesied as the Last Dragonborn, the savior of Skyrim, the bane of the World-Eater—and she was terrified.





	

Dar'Zahyla had been silent ever since she'd read the Elder Scroll.

She'd used the thu'um she learned, yes—the echos of her Shout had shaken the very foundations of High Hrothgar—but not a lick of Nordic or Ta'agra had left her lips since the Scroll had ignited her eyes in silver and brought her to her knees in the midst of the Time-Wound. Even now, with Alduin crippled and sent into retreat, Dar'Zahyla was silent, staring into the fire I'd built with her hands in her lap.

I chanced a closer look at her as I undid the bindings of her breastplate. Her pupils were still constricted to hairline slits, as they'd been when the Elder Scroll had taken her—even in the darkness of the night.

_ At least she can still see, which is more than can be said of some... _

Dar'Zahyla started slightly at the feeling of my hands on her bare shoulders, and I pulled her back against me. She seemed to stir at the bodily contact, at least a little, and leaned back against me. I wrapped my arms about her shoulders. Dar'Zahyla absently touched her fingers to my bared arms.

"My Thane," I spoke softly into her ear, "are you well?"

She gave a vague hum by way of reply—still more sound than I'd heard from her since the duel with Alduin.

"Please speak to me." My breath made her ear twitch.

"Na kor," she rasped out.

"Pardon?" She really must've been disoriented to try to speak Ta'agra at me.

She ducked her head slightly, tucking herself deeper into my arms. "I am... uncertain."

I pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her neck. She sighed softly, content. "Reading an Elder Scroll will do that to you," I said, tugging the smaller woman into my lap. "You're lucky you're the Dragonborn. I'm not sure I'd've liked to see what it might've done to you otherwise."

Dar'Zahyla went stiff in my grasp. Her hands immediately dropped back into her lap, and she muttered something in so low a tone I couldn't catch it.

"What?"

"Release me," she spoke clearly this time, voice flat, and extricated herself from my grasp to stand with her back to me.

I warily got to my feet as well, reaching out for her. She flinched back as soon as my fingers brushed the fur of her shoulder, and I stood there, arm outstretched, utterly baffled. "Is something wrong?"

"You... are calling Dar'Zahyla that name, too," she said slowly. Dar'Zahyla gave a hollow little laugh. "Everywhere Dar'Zahyla goes... Dragonborn, Dovahkiin, Rasiniit... Thane, yes? My given name is... meaningless." She abruptly began circling the fire, agitated. "...Khajiit did not ask for this."

My brow furrowed at her disconcerted pacing. "What are you talking about? You  _ are _ Dragonborn—"

Her tail lashed sharply. "Do  _ not— _ !" Dar'Zahyla stopped herself sharply and grimaced. She lowered her voice, smacking the backs of her fingers into the palm of her other hand in time with each syllable. " _ Ahziss nak vaba Dar'Zahyla _ . Do not call me this..." She made a vague gesture with her hand. " _ Dragonborn. _ "

Now I began to wonder if the Scroll hadn't affected her more than I'd realized. She wasn't making any sense. "Why not? You have the Dragon Blood in you—I've  _ seen  _ it! We all have!"

Dar'Zahyla sneered from across the fire. "Yes, Dragon Blood—a blessing unrequested, from one who is no god of the Khajiit."

I stared in disbelief. "You would throw away a gift from Akatosh himself?" I sputtered, unable to even comprehend the sheer lunacy of despising a god's blessing. "You were chosen personally! Hand-picked by the gods—"

"For  _ what? _ " Dar'Zahyla spat, storming around the side of the fire to snarl into my face. "Dar'Zahyla escaped to Skyrim for freedom, only to find that—" she jabbed me in the chest with a finger "—it was  _ Nords _ who prevented Khajiit from having even this! Cats, thieves, skooma-addled,  _ khrassozay qojiit, _ we are not even allowed into your cities!" Her eyes burned in the firelight. "Dar'Zahyla's kind are not welcomed here—your rebels would have Khajiit cast out, your emperor sought Dar'Zahyla's head! Were it not for this—you say 'blessing,' Dar'Zahyla herself would not merit even a glance!" She turned as if to stalk away again.

"But you  _ do _ have it—the most ancient and powerful blessing a Nord god could ever offer you—"

She whipped around to face me again. " _ Dar'Zahyla is no Nord! _ " she nearly screamed, and the agony in her voice was enough to make me step back. She panted with emotion, shoulders trembling slightly as they heaved. She stared at my feet, waiting for me to try to speak over her again.

But for once in my life, I shut up and listened.

Dar'Zahyla slowly lifted her gaze to me again, and for the first time I saw the look in those brilliant eyes that I loved so much. She was so young, and already she was weary far beyond her years. She bore five eras of prophecy and expectation on her back—prophecy that she'd never even heard of before she arrived in Skyrim only a year or two ago. Prophecy from a people who didn't care a thing in the world for her.

Prophecy she was expected to lay down her life for.

She grasped my forearms, scanning my eyes desperately. "Kha'jay," she pleaded. " _ Lydia. _ " Her voice shook when she whispered my name. I'd never seen such fear and despair in any living being before, let alone in my supposedly fearless young charge. "This one is not even  _ wanted  _ here." Her eyes were wet with anguish and terror. When she spoke again, she was resigned—voice broken and wavering. "How can Dar'Zahyla be your hero of legend?"

I swallowed hard, struggling to hold my eye contact with her despite the pain it lit in my gut. I knew exactly what she spoke of. I'd seen more innkeepers and markets turn her away than I could even keep count of; I'd had to argue with more guardsmen than I thought possible to agree to let her into Skyrim's cities; I'd heard every possible slur for Khajiit anyone could come up with, all aimed at the terrified young woman who, now, was expected to face the World-Eater himself on their behalf—alone.

The wheel may indeed have turned upon her, but... gods, I couldn't ask this of her. She'd borne too much already. This should never have been her fight.

I pulled her close, hugging her trembling form tight against me, and I heard her sob faintly into my shoulder as her fingers fisted in my tunic. Gods, I was sworn to her and I'd bought into the prophecy just as much as the other Nords who'd treated her so poorly. I hadn't even thought of what that must've been doing to her.

"Oh, my Thane," I whispered against the crown of her head, holding her ever closer. "Oh, darling. Dar'Zahyla. I'm so sorry." Sorry for what the gods had damned her with. Sorry for what my kinsman had done to her.

Sorry for the agony I'd laid on her.

I don't know how long we stood there as she wept out her terror into my shoulder. But eventually she'd cried all the tears she could muster, and I slowly lowered us to the ground, keeping her pressed tight to me, trying to impress upon her that I was hers, hers and nobody else's.

Slowly her trembling ceased, though she didn't move from where I'd settled her onto my lap, pressed against my chest. I rubbed a hand absently up and down her spine. Whether the motion was to comfort her or simply myself, I was unsure.

After a long moment, Dar'Zahyla finally heaved a world-weary sigh into my shoulder and reluctantly lifted her head again. "...I... apologize," she began slowly. "This one has a... responsibility—"

"No," I spoke up suddenly, squeezing her hip.

Dar'Zahyla blinked hard and gave me a quizzical look. "Ah... Kha'jay, Dar'Zahyla is—"

I kissed her to shut her up that time. "No," I repeated, murmuring the word against her mouth. She looked at me quizzically, then, still not quite understanding. "The prophecy said you'd be doing all this on your own. That's far too dangerous—as your housecarl, I have to say no."

Her brow creased for a moment. Then her eyes widened. "Kha'jay, you..." She trailed off. I reached up, lightly tracing the dark stripe that ran from the corner of her eye down to her jaw. "Dov, dov, kha'jay, jer pur sheggorr. This one has... accepted fate, yes? The world..."

"The world will have to fight its own battles," I said, my thumb still absently stroking her cheek. I wondered if she realized how reckless she made me. "It's done well enough without you so far."

Her smile was small and tired, but it was a smile nonetheless. "And what of your World-Eater?"

I scoffed aloud, and the blasphemy made me feel giddy. "Let the bastard come!" Dar'Zahyla's brows shot up. I kissed her soundly once more, startling a little half-laugh from her. "The wheel will continue turning anyway. He's swallowed worlds before; why should we care if this one is any different?"

Dar'Zahyla chuckled, her smile amused now. She caught me by the chin for a slower, softer kiss. "Kha'jay, jer ka ahziss krinali. We live on this one, no?"

"Yes,  _ we _ do." Her callused thumb brushed lightly against my lower lip. "Both of us. I'm not letting you go again." I'd agonized over that for long enough. "Perhaps I'm being reckless." I bumped my forehead against hers, bringing another smile to her face. "Alduin may yet devour this world whole. But my loyalties lie with  _ you, _ not the whole of Nirn."

Dar'Zahyla thought about my words for a long moment. I knew her well enough to know why. As much as she didn't want to be a hero, she was too kind an individual to have ever given thought to something so selfish as not getting herself killed for the good of everyone else. But, really—what did she owe Skyrim, anyway? The country hadn't done her a bit of good since she first arrived.

At length, she gave a soft, airy chuckle and nuzzled fondly into my neck. "The Greybeards will have your head," she commented, turning into me and straddling my lap.

I made a noncommittal noise and rubbed my nose against the soft fur at the base of her ear. "They're a noisy bunch of old men. I can handle them."

That got a snort out of her. "And Alkosh—...er, your Akatosh—"

"Is no god of yours," I provided. "So he can take it up with me."

She laughed again, and it was the first time in months I'd heard her laugh like that: a genuine laugh from the stomach, not forced or halfhearted or uncertain but for once full of authentic pleasure. She pulled away just slightly to smile at me, her hand sliding to my shoulder to keep her balance. "My moon, you carry more madness than the Skooma Cat." I didn't understand the reference. She kissed me nonetheless, and I could feel her smiling against me even still. "Where shall we go, kha'jay?"

I shrugged. I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I hear the Dawnguard is getting back together. We could hunt vampires until the world ends."

"Kha'jay, you are being quite, hm...  _ rhogur? _ ...about this... end-of-world circumstance."

I smiled fondly down at her, squeezing Dar'Zahyla comfortingly around the waist. "As I said before, my Thane, I am devoted to  _ you. _ " I kissed her slowly, more softly than I thought I'd ever be capable of, idly stroking the dark stripes down her cheeks with my thumbs. When the kiss ended, her eyes remained closed in something approaching bliss.

"Only you," I repeated softly, faintly.

And even a thousand more worlds weren't worth a strand of her hair.

**Author's Note:**

> i technically started this back in like. april or smthg. but then forgot about it until yesterday when, after writing that gay nonsense, i was like **ah yes i forgot i loved these idiot gay girls** and dragged it up and wrote like 4 more pages (so if it seems slightly disjointed that would be why,,,,,,, u kno)
> 
> anyway so this is! technically! the ending of the series! chronologically speaking i mean. there won't be any more "my hero" installments set chronologically after this!! but do not despair, i've been writing 90% of this series out of order anyway! there's a lot of good shit i still have to fill in that happened before this lmao (tfw you have a slowburn otp but youre impatient so you just SKIP TO THE GOOD BITS and fill in everything else later)
> 
> "tah what the hell though" some of you are probably protesting "are you really ending the series with them just casually accepting their eventual deaths at the claws of the world-eater, what kinda bullshit is that" to which i say to you also do not despair because the series itself is a two-parter! so there! and keep a lookout for the eventual sequel series tentatively titled DRAGONSBLOOD, featuring even more gay bullshit than before, somehow, if i can top this
> 
> **TRANSLATION GUIDE**  
>  Na kor = I don't know  
> Rasiniit = Defender/Protector  
> Ahziss nak vaba Dar'Zahyla = My name is Dar'Zahyla  
> khrassozay qojiit = clawless coward (general insult)  
> Dov, dov, kha'jay, jer pur sheggorr = No, no, (my) moon, you speak madness  
> Kha'jay, jer ka ahziss krinali = (My) moon, you make me laugh  
> Skooma Cat = Sheggorrath/The Mad God  
> rhogur = cruel/flippant


End file.
